


Devil’s Food

by Cornerofmadness



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:14:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24114844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cornerofmadness/pseuds/Cornerofmadness
Summary: An angel and a demon break lock down.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 23
Collections: Bite Sized Bits of Fic from 2020





	Devil’s Food

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** Not mine, Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett owns it
> 
> **Notes:** written for classics_lover for the prompt Good Omens, Aziraphale/Crowley, Aziraphale teaching Crowley how to bake during/after Lockdown. Angel's Envy is real bourbon. This story takes into consideration [ this 30th anniversary skit ](https://www.youtube.com/embed/quSXoj8Kob0)

X X X

Aziraphale rocked back on his heels finding Crowley on his doorstep.

“It’s finally happened. I’m _so_ bored, I couldn’t help it,” Crowley cried without preamble.

“Help what?”

“Your foolish story about baking for those boys who were trying to rob started echoing in my head. I know we agreed to keep our distance.” Crowley smiled as he pushed past Aziraphale. “I’m taking you up on your idea of baking together.”

Aziraphale blinked rapidly. Of all things he expected Crowley to say, that wasn’t even on the list. He beamed. "Excellent, even if it _is_ breaking all the rules, and it was your idea! I merely sent my burglars home with some of the Bundt cake I’d made. So what will we bake?”

“You do your thing. I’ll do mine….only I don’t know the first thing about baking.” Crowley shrugged his thin shoulders.

“I’m learning too much about it.” Aziraphale patted his expanding belly. He was getting very soft in the middle. “I just finished up some Welsh cakes and was about to tackle banoffee pie. You’re in luck. I already have the butter out and softening.”

“Is that important?” Crowley asked following Aziraphale into the kitchen, which was liberally dusted with flour. Aziraphale flushed a bit. He was usually so fastidious but he’d lost himself in the art that things had gotten bit messy.

“Oh yes, temperature matters when you’re baking.” He gestured to the table. “I have plenty of cook books.”

Crowley pulled a tablet out of his jacket pocket and took off his dark glasses. “Live in the now.” He tapped the infernal machine on as Aziraphale favored him with a scowl. “Got a bowl I can mix this stuff in?”

“Of course.” Aziraphale fetched him one and found the hand mixer. The stand mixer was his and currently rather trashed with Welsh cake batter splatter. “You can get what you need from the pantry. I have to crush biscuits for the pie crust.”

Rolling up his voluminous, brightly colored sleeves, he started crushing them while Crowley hunted down some cocoa and a bag of flour. Crowley consulted his recipe and flung a handful of flour into the mixing bowl. Literally, just dug in and grabbed up a handful to Aziraphale’s horror.

“Whatever are you doing?” he demanded to know.

Crowley nodded to the tablet. “It said I need flour.”

“Not like that. Baking isn’t like cooking.” Aziraphale peeked at the tablet and rolled his eyes. “Devil’s food cake?”

“Should I make angel’s food?” Crowley nudged him. 

Aziraphale huffed. “As I was saying, baking isn’t like cooking where you can just throw things together and hope for the best. It’s very precise. You have to measure.” He hunted up measuring cups and got a full cup of flour. He used his finger to level off the excess. “See? You need to have a level cup, unless the recipe calls for heaping.”

“What exactly is a heap then?”

Aziraphale shrugged. “Use your best judgement.”

“You just told me this has to be precise.” Crowley rolled his snaky eyes.

“You of all people should know rules were meant to be broken.” Aziraphale shot him a cheeky look and Crowley snorted.

Out of the corner of his eye, while he cut up bananas for his pie, Aziraphale watched Crowley measure out flour and then tried to use an ordinary tablespoon before Aziraphale stopped him.

“Those aren’t precise either. You have to use measuring spoons.” He supplied Crowley with one and the demon took it with an award-winning sigh.

Aziraphale let him have his head until the poor thing couldn’t figure out how the mixer worked. He confiscated it and put the beaters in. “There you go.”

He immediately took it back just before Crowley could thumb it on high speed immediately. “You start slow and then pick up the pace.”

“There are other things that could be applied to,” Crowley purred in Aziraphale’s ear making him blush.

“Get thee behind me!” Aziraphale blurted out before realizing that was entirely the wrong thing to say to Crowley.

“Gladly.”

Aziraphale wiggled free of Crowley’s questing hands and showed him exactly how to use the mixer. Before long he realized Crowley had manipulated him into doing half the work. He surrendered the mixer with a huff and went back to working on his pie. Crowley started rolling his dough into balls.

“What are you doing?”

“Cake pops.”

Aziraphale admired his initiative. They got their treats into the oven; well his crust wouldn’t take long to blind bake. 

Crowley fished up his dark glasses and popped them on his face. “I’ve been meaning to ask since I got here. Are you actually wearing a kimono?”

Aziraphale smoothed a hand down the colorful fabric. “It’s a yukata, though I suppose it’s a bit early in the year for it. I was simply in the mood for a little color.”

Crowley snorted. “A little color, a little eye searing.”

“You’re just jealous.” Aziraphale pouted and Crowley only smiled before going back to root around in the pantry some more. Aziraphale took the time to whip up the cream for the pie.

He was so involved in layering in the bananas and Dulce con leche sauce into his biscuit crust, he didn’t notice Crowley had taken out his cake pops, magicked them a bit to have devil’s horns and was rolling them in melted chocolate and red glittery sugar. He looked particularly proud of himself.

“Mine has to chill. Whatever are you doing, Crowley?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He speared another cake pop on a lollipop stick and dipped it.

“Do they have to look like that?”

“Naturally.”

Aziraphale snared one before it got dipped and pulled it apart to taste it. He fed the second half to Crowley. “Hmm, not bad for a first time.”

“I’m calling it a success,” Crowley replied.

“You finish up. I’ll put the kettle on.”

To Aziraphale’s surprise, Crowley helped him clean up after he got the pops in the fridge. They enjoyed a leisurely tea while their desserts chilled. Finally, Aziraphale thought it might be time to pull out a slice of the banoffee pie. It had barely set but one small slice to share with his friend wouldn’t matter much. He set it on the table with two forks.

He shut his eyes savoring every bit of its sweetness. Crowley made a sound close to a contented cat.

“This is devilishly good,” Crowley said.

“I’d have said heavenly,” Aziraphale countered.  
“Of course you would.” With a gesture, Crowley made a bottle with angel’s wings on it appear. It read Angel’s Envy. “From America. A little bourbon to go with all this sugar.” Crowley grinned.

Aziraphale found two tumblers and let Crowley pour. “I’m glad you broke lock down. This has been fun.”

Crowley settled back, a happy smile on his face. He raised his glass to Aziraphale. “When it’s us, it usually is.”


End file.
